


Drop

by sarahenany



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape Fantasy, Roleplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22208764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahenany/pseuds/sarahenany
Summary: Iwaizumi loves to spoil his setter, and Oikawa will always take care of his Iwa-chan. PWP. Spanking scene followed by non-con fantasy. Followed by some comforting just because.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 12
Kudos: 260





	Drop

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Thursday26 for beta and advice. <3

“You’re going to regret talking back to me,” Iwa-chan says, his deep, husky voice already sending shivers down Tooru’s spine. “Aren’t you, you bad boy?”

“Mnh,” Tooru says before he manages to form words. “Unh. Yes, sir.”

He’s draped over Iwa-chan’s knee, his reflection long and pale and naked in the full-length mirror: Iwa-chan’s still fully clothed. Tooru thinks he could come from this alone if he stared at it long enough. Iwa-chan’s hand comes down on his buttocks with a loud smacking sound. It’s big and hard and calloused and Tooru moans. The spank is followed by another, and another, and another, in a strong, steady rhythm. The sting builds and builds until he’s squirming and crying out with the sheer pleasure of it. “If you didn’t act like such a brat,” Iwa-chan says, his voice rough and unlike his usual tones enough to make Tooru shiver, “you wouldn’t need correction, now would you?”

“No, sir. Ooh.” He’s writhing now, getting more and more desperate, frotting his bare cock against Iwa-chan’s pant leg.

“Such a naughty boy. We’ve had this conversation over and over and still you wind up over my knee.” Smack. Smack. Holy _shit_ this is _fucking amazing._ “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Tooru whines. He loves the lecture part almost as much as the stinging sensation. “No, sir,” he says meekly.

“I didn’t think so.” More and harder spanks, setting him on fire. Tooru drags in breath after shuddering breath and tries to rub up more against Iwa-chan’s leg. “Are you going to be good? Will you need to be punished again?”

“Yes sir. No, sir. Ooh.”

“The only thing that’s gonna be left of your butt when I’m done with you is a smoking crater, you get that?”

“Ughh.” This talk is making Oikawa dizzy. “Yes, sir.”

Smack. Smack. “Does this hurt?”

It _does,_ and it would spoil the scene to mention the way his spine is melting, so… “Y-yes, sir. It hurts. Mmm _nnh.”_

“You’ll remember it every time you sit down, won’t you?” More wonderful stinging smacks. “And you’ll regret ever sassing me, won’t you?”

“Haaa… uhhh… yessir.” Tooru writhes in delicious pain. “Ah.” More smacks. His nerve endings are on fire. God, he’s going to lose his freaking _mind._

“You ever going to talk back to me again?”

“Uwaah. No, sir.” Iwa-chan is _fucking good_ at this. His fingertips catch the sensitive spot at the base of Tooru’s butt, pulling the skin slightly upward and setting the nerves on fire. Occasionally, the spanking hand will pause, drifting down to lightly tease between his legs, feathering over his perineum and balls and the underside of his cock, making him produce the most _undignified_ sounds. He’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t just him and Hajime here. Well… maybe he is a little embarrassed. “Iwa-chan,” he complains when he’s teased into making a particularly unmanly squeak.

“That’s _sir_ to you, brat,” comes the growl in reply, accompanied by a resounding slap that makes Tooru squirm in delight. He can see his ass in the mirror: it’s turned a lovely shade of red and is a little swollen, which is good for his bubble-butt look. Although it’s getting harder to focus on his appearance the more his head fills with the wonderful buzzing sensation of the spanking. It’s so amazing to be here: it feels like he’s floating. Like keeping up appearances, like being Oikawa Tooru, debonair man about town, star, falls away, and he can just live, just _be._

“Iwa-chan,” he whimpers, and there must be something in his voice because Iwa-chan knows what he wants. He brings his other hand down and slips the middle finger into Tooru’s mouth for him to suck on. Then he resumes slapping Tooru’s ass.

Tooru closes his eyes, lost in bliss, drawing the fleshy finger in and sucking on it. The curved pad of the fingertip fits so, so perfectly into the roof of his mouth, seeming to complete a circuit of nerve endings that has him moaning. He sucks on the shaft of the finger, hollowing out his cheeks, curling his tongue around it. The fingernail is a strong line at the base of his tongue with a direct fucking connection to the base of his skull and from there to his groin and Tooru thinks maybe he’s going to lose his mind. “Nngga-chgggn,” he moans. He feels so fucking complete, he doesn’t need anything more…

“Get up. Your punishment isn’t done. You still need a good hard fucking.”

The words jolt Tooru out of his pleasurable haze, reminding him that there is more fun to be had, although the way he feels so floaty right now he could almost drift off without doing anything else. But ooh, what Hajime just _said…!_ It makes a jolt of pleasure course through him. “No,” he sighs around the finger still in his mouth, breath borne on a smile. He curls his tongue around it and sucks on it hard again. He smiles, his head falling to the mattress. “Please don’t fuck me…”

Iwa-chan withdraws the finger (mean!) and hauls Tooru up so he’s sitting in his lap. Tooru helps a little, although his limbs are like lead weights. Iwa-chan’s wearing yoga pants with nothing underneath _fucking little tease_ and it’s driving Tooru crazy, the contact of his sore butt against the fabric and the straining erection poking at him, barely contained. He presses his cheek against Iwa-chan’s, warm, yielding, intimate. “Please don’t fuck me,” he whispers in his ear. Oikawa Tooru does everything with flair, with supreme confidence, but _dammit_ some things need to be whispered, like a secret. It’s not that he’s _shy_ to say this stuff or anything. “It’s too big.” (It’s an impressive size, but it isn’t. Besides, there’s no such thing as ‘too big’.) He catches Iwa-chan’s earlobe in his teeth, breathing into his ear and whispering. He feels Iwa-chan shudder under him and tighten his hold. “It splits me in two.” (That much is true.) He’s rewarded by a grunt and a moan, Iwa-chan’s hand fisting in the hair at the back of his head. He breathes hotly into his ear, “It hurts so bad when you fuck me,” (which is an absolute 100% fucking lie, but it feels so good to say), “please don’t punish me that way…”

Iwa-chan lets out a sound that’s almost like a sob. Tooru knows how he feels: he’s ready to come untouched just from saying what they’ve been saying. He allows Iwa-chan to grab him and fold him forward over the side of the bed. “I have to fuck you,” comes the soft growl in his ear, “because you’ve been such a bad boy. You have to take a good hard fucking as your punishment.”

“No, please,” Tooru moans. A few more seconds of this and he’s going to go off like a goddam rocket without them even getting to the fucking part.

“I have to correct your behavior,” the maddening words continue as slick fingers prepare and stretch him. Tooru wordlessly crosses his wrists at the small of his back, hoping, and he’s rewarded as the hand not prepping him clamps hard around both wrists, immobilizing him. “Have to hold you down. Stop you running away,” Iwa-chan says teasingly, and Tooru whines out loud. This is _totally not fair._ He wriggles and flutters his restrained wrists, enjoying being pinned like this. He’s sure he looks quite lovely, like a butterfly. But he can’t get a look in the mirror and to be honest he doesn’t _fucking care,_ not right now. Iwa-chan pinches his sore butt cheek just the way he likes it and Tooru yells out and kicks his leg. “Feisty,” he hears and then there’s a hardness lined up with his entrance, hot and heavy. “Are you ready for your punishment?”

Tooru pushes back so Iwa-chan’s cock slides part of the way in. “No, no, please,” he whines. “Please don’t fuck me.” Shit, he must be needier than he thought: he’s pressing so hard that Iwa-chan’s half sheathed in him already. He lets out a long, low grunt as the rest of his hot length slides in, filling him completely. “Ha-ahh,” he moans shamelessly: it’s all too much, being filled, the contact between their bodies and the pressure of his sore butt against Iwa-chan’s hot flesh, and the guilty pleasure of begging, “Please, no more,” even as he writhes for more contact, “I’ll be a good boy, please.”

“Oh, you will.” Iwa-chan sounds wonderfully authoritative as he pulls out a fraction, then pushes in again. “You’re going to learn a good hard lesson, aren’t you?”

“Y—yes, sir.” The sensation is too much. He’s having to work to keep his own cock from touching the bed too much. He’s close.

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say you’ve learned your lesson and you’re going to be a good boy in future.”

“Haa _-ahh_ . I’ve learned my lesson…” This is _not fair._ He is going to _lose his mind._ “…and I’m going to be a—a good boy in future—oh _fuck!”_ he gasps.

“That’s a good boy.”

“Iwa-chan… please?” Tooru says in a different tone. He can’t say more, but it’s a good thing they’ve done this a few times. Iwa-chan understands, reaching around and giving him his finger to suckle on again. He sucks it in, lips and cheeks and tongue hungry for it. It’s different sucking a finger from a cock: with a cock you have to be more careful, more focused on giving pleasure. With a wonderful thick finger like Iwa-chan’s, it’s all about what you need, what you want, the firmness of bone and muscle filling your mouth, giving you something to suckle on and even bite down gently, filling that aching need, making you full and warm and satisfied. The security of having his mouth filled and his ass filled and his butt-cheeks sore and still being able to make sounds that could generously be interpreted as “No” and “That’s enough” and “Please stop” and on top of it, Iwa-chan still saying delicious things about punishment and being a bad boy…

With one last “you need a good hard fucking”, Iwa-chan wraps a hand around Tooru’s cock and Tooru comes with a roar straight out of one of those Godzilla movies Iwa-chan likes so much. There’s a hot pressure inside of him that means Iwa-chan’s coming too. His eyes squeeze shut and everything is red for a long, mad moment when his brain melts out of his ears and he cries out and half-sobs a little because it’s just so _incredible._

When he has half a brain cell functioning again, Tooru shifts a little, fumbling for the towel they draped across the side of the bed. Oh, hey, he came into it. _Awesome._ He scrubs at himself and then gently straightens, Iwa-chan softening and slipping out of him, and Tooru dabs and pats at them both until they’re all cleaned up. “Your technique has improved,” he says lightly, feeling like he’s glowing with energy. “I shall recommend you for a medal.”

The air in the room is chilly. Tooru fumbles for the T-shirt he left on the side of the bed and slips it on. “Hey. Quit kneeling on the hard floor.” He manhandles Iwa-chan, silent and pliant, up to lie on the mattress, helpfully hitching his yoga pants up so his cock won’t get cold, then pulls on a pair of sweatpants – _Keep your limbs warm, keep your limbs warm,_ the mantra from gym reminds him, and old habits die hard even if they haven’t been, in the most technical sense, exercising. The sweatpants chafe delightfully against his sore butt-cheeks, and he can’t help the huge shit-eating grin on his face as he flings himself dramatically down to the mattress next to Iwa-chan. The big lug always needs a nap after sex, and Tooru wouldn’t say no to a little rest either after—

\--Iwa-chan’s lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, face oddly rigid. “Hey,” Tooru lifts himself up on one elbow, “are you okay?”

There’s no response. “Iwa-chan,” Tooru says gently. He touches his shoulder. “You’re scaring me. You okay?”

Iwa-chan blinks and shifts onto his side and Tooru winces at the visible effort it costs him to move. “I… Yeah, I’m…” But he chokes on whatever assurance he was about to say. “Tooru,” he grates out instead, voice low. “You know I would never do that for real, don’t you?”

“Do what?”

Iwa-chan’s face crumples and he starts crying. _Crying. Iwa-chan._ Just like that, without being injured or anything. “Aw, no, c’mere…” Tooru croons. He takes a moment to extricate the bedcovers from beneath them and pull them up over both of them in a cocoon. “What’s wrong, Iwa-chan?” he murmurs, gathering him into his arms. “Tell your awesome boyfriend, come on.”

Iwa-chan’s shaking. He lets out a choked laugh into Tooru’s shoulder. “It’s probably just hormones. Or endorphins or something.”

“Hey, hey, shh, shh. There’s top drop just like there’s sub drop.” (Tooru has only a very vague idea of this, but he knows that just knowing there’s a name for it will help.) He holds him tighter. “Something’s bothering you, so come on, let it out.”

Iwa-chan pushes away from Tooru so there’s enough distance between them to look into each other’s eyes. “Like, for real. P-punish… correct your…” He swallows. “You know I’m not, that I wouldn’t? That I’d never?”

Tooru has to swallow hard. “Of course I know that. What brought this on?”

Iwa-chan shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know… I just listened to myself, heard the way I sounded. It sounded like... I don’t know. Too much like the way I normally talk to you. Like I think I have the right to hit you for real, judge you for real. Punish you.” He chokes. “All I can think of now is how I want you to know—Tooru-san,” oh shit, he’s breaking out the suffixes, this is bad, “I respect you. I would never. I’m not better than you, I wouldn’t… like ‘correct’ you if you did something wrong, I… it’s not like that between us, I...”

“I know.” Tooru pulls him into another hug. “Besides, I never do anything wrong.”

He’s hoping for a laugh, but what comes out is a sob. “I always say mean things to you. I don’t let you know that I care for you…”

“Hey,” Tooru grins, “who are you and what have you done with _my_ Iwa-chan?”

But it’s hopeless. Iwa-chan sobs softly, his hands fisting in Tooru’s t-shirt, and Tooru holds him gently, stroking his hair, thinking maybe his heart will break. “Tooru-san, I always speak to you that way when you’re being arrogant or unforgiving but, but I do respect you, I value you. Just because I think you could change some behaviors, I don’t ever think I’m better than you or…”

“I know. I know.” He kisses Iwa-chan’s forehead. “I know.”

“I don’t get to act superior. I never meant to do that to you.” Iwa-chan’s shoulders shudder with sobs. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t mean it. I _respect_ you,” he repeats desperately.

“Hey.” Tooru can’t stand it. “Do you want to quit this kind of play? What we just did?”

Iwa-chan blinks. “Huh?” He pushes back a bit to see Tooru’s face. “Why? Do you want to?”

“No. I _love_ it,” Tooru assures him. “But if it’s going to make you feel bad, I can live without it.”

That halts Iwa-chan’s tears. “I… No. I was…”

Tooru gathers him in again, holding him tight and safe. “It’s top drop. It’s okay. I’m right here and I’ve got you. I’ll get you something to drink with sugar in it, and you’ll be fine.” He rubs Iwa-chan’s back, and he’s gratified to feel his arms come up around him. He kisses his hair. “Hush now. Or cry if you need to. Let it out. I don’t believe for a minute that you’d ever hurt me for real. You’re a big meanie, but you’ve got a soft heart.”

Iwa-chan’s hold on him tightens. “You’re always insulting me,” he mutters into Tooru’s shirt.

“This from the person,” Tooru keeps rubbing his back firmly, “whose nickname for me is Trashykawa.”

“I call ‘em as I see ‘em.” Iwa-chan’s voice is only slightly watery.

Tooru strokes Iwa-chan’s hair and kisses his forehead over and over. “Not my fault you need glasses.”

“Says the one who wears them for the aesthetic.”

“My aesthetic is flawless.”

They banter back and forth until Iwa-chan is relaxed and sleepy in Tooru’s hold. He kisses him again and again, holding him tight and rocking him. He won’t let his Iwa-chan go until he’s deeply asleep, and then only to get him something to drink to get him hydrated and his blood sugar up. He pulls the covers more tightly up around them both and holds him to keep him warm. Warmth is good for this kind of endorphin shock. Iwa-chan may take care of Tooru, spoil him even, but he’s Tooru’s to protect, and Tooru takes that duty seriously. It’s a duty he never plans to forget.


End file.
